Spoiling Jean Blake
by FunkyBetsy
Summary: In honor of Jeanuary. Lucien determines that the best way to correct his bad behavior is by spoiling his wife.


Lucien Blake muffled a sneeze into his handkerchief and muttered to himself as he came through the door of his home, "Oh, for the love of God." He hung up his hat on the peg beside the door, and was about to call out his wife's name when he heard her voice coming from the reception area to his right.

He turned, ready to enter when he heard his name.

"Honestly," Jean was saying into the phone as he peeked around the corner, "Lucien has just been a bear all week. He's had a head cold, which is making him cranky, and he's been snapping at everyone. He made poor Evelyn Toohey cry when we ran into her in the shops, and worse, he's been distracted by this last case and actually blew up whatever he had heating on the Bunsen burner filling the entire house with horrible smelling smoke yesterday. It's taken me all of yesterday and today to get the smell out, not to mention picking up all the handkerchiefs he's dropped and listening to him gripe."

Out in the hallway, Lucien hung his head in shame. It was true he was having an awful week, but he hadn't realized just how much of an effect it had been having on Jean. His first thought was to rush into the reception room and apologize, letting her know that he was sorry to have been so irritable. But, she was clearly venting to whomever was on the other end of the phone, and he had a sudden thought that interrupting her might not be the best course of action just then.

Instead, he grabbed his hat, turned, and went right back out the front door again, hoping that she hadn't heard him enter and wouldn't notice that he had gone.

He was back an hour later – and he found an irritated Jean in the kitchen, clearly annoyed that he was late.

"Lucien! Where have you been; I expected you an hour ago. I made you some soup; it's still warm," she began bustling around the kitchen, grabbing bowls and glasses.

Lucien cleared his throat with a small cough, holding his hands and what was in them behind his back, "Thank you, Jean, soup would be lovely." He hesitated a moment, unsure how to begin, "Jean, I," he began, but interrupted himself with a sneeze. Since his hands were full, he turned to the side, momentarily exposing what he was hiding behind his back. When he turned back to face Jean, she was staring at him open mouthed.

"Jean," he began again, "I know I've been somewhat…impossible lately, especially with the mess yesterday and all. And I wanted to find a way to make it up to you," at this, he pulled his hands from behind his back, exposing the dozen red roses and the bakery box he'd been hiding.

He held them out to her, "Forgive me?"

Jean worked hard to suppress a smile. This was just like him; to think that an apology after the fact would make up for his terrible behavior beforehand. And while she did forgive him, had forgiven him hours ago, in fact, she decided to make him work a little harder before she let him know.

"Well, I think these will do for a start," she told him, reaching out for the flowers and cradling them briefly in her arms before turning to find a vase. "What's in the box?"

Lucien looked nervous; he had hoped she would be happier than this, but soldiered on, "I took the liberty of picking up your favorite flourless chocolate cake; I thought we could have it for dessert. And that's not all," he hastened to add, as he incorrectly read the expression on her face, "I plan to pamper you all evening. Honestly, I know I've been a bit irritable this week, and you've taken the brunt of it, so I want to make you feel special this evening – the way you make me feel every day."

At this, Jean melted. "Well, I quite like the sound of that. Are you sure you're feeling up to it, though," she asked, thinking of how irritable he'd be the next day if he overdid things now.

"Absolutely. Let me fetch the sherry; you can have a glass with the cake, and I'll tell you a little more about what I have in mind."

Two hours later, Jean lay back on the sofa, floating pleasantly from the wine and chocolate while her husband rubbed her feet. Lucien had been true to his word, and had spent the last two hours doing everything he could think of to spoil her and make her feel appreciated. He had started by serving her the cake and getting his own dinner, then doing all the washing up while she sat her with some sherry in front of the fire he had built just for her. He had put on music, and danced her around the parlor, whispering endearments into her ear, and after he had stepped on her toes one too many times, he had pulled her into his lap, freed her feet from her shoes and set about massaging them tenderly.

When he let them go, she opened her eyes to discover that he was holding out a small, wrapped box, a silly smile on his face as he watched her.

"Lucien," Jean gasped, reaching for the package happily. She unwrapped it to find the exact pearl necklace that she had been admiring in a jeweler's window just the other day. "You shouldn't have," she began, but she was smiling too widely to be believable.

She leaned forward to kiss him. He had been avoiding kissing her all week, not wanting to give her his cold, and she found that she suddenly didn't care, that she missed kissing him desperately, and in a second found herself straddling his lap while she kissed him passionately, pouring all of her love into the kiss. Lucien responded in kind, all his previous concerns clearly vanishing.

He reached around and took hold of her firmly, shifting her more tightly to his waist as he rose and carried her to the bedroom, intent on showing her even more how much he loved her. And when she did catch his cold the next day, he simply used it as an excuse to shower her with even more love and attention over the next few days, making it his new goal in life to spend his time spoiling Jean Blake.


End file.
